0£  WITT  &  SNELUN6 

BOOKSELLERS 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2007  with  funding  from 

Microsoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/bluemondaybookOOhainrich 


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Cfce  Mint  jflflonfcap  ilook 

There  are  some  moments  in  our  fate 
That  stamp  the  colour  of  our  days, 
As,  till  then,  life  bad  not  been  felt 

L.E.L. 

COMPILED  AND 
ARRANGED  BY 

Jennie  Day  Haines 

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PAUL   ELDER  AND   COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS,  SAN  FRANCISCO 

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THE  origin  of  Blue  Monday,  we 
are  told,  dates  back  to  an  old 
Bavarian  custom  of  decorating 
the  churches  in  blue,  on  the  Monday 
before  Lent. 

Nowadays,  any,  or  every  Monday 
may  be  a  Blue  Monday — when  the  soul 
is  so  enveloped  in  the  "blues,"  that  life 
can  only  be  viewed  "through  a  glass 
darkly."  A  specific  remedy  for  each  of 
these  blue-letter  days  is  hereinafter  pre- 
sented. 


Copyright,  1905 

by  Paul  Elder  and  Company 

San  Francisco 


The  Tomoye  Pre* 


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$relutre 
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TF,  HOWEVER,  I  can  by  a  lucky 
1  chance,  in  these  days  of  evil,  rub  out 
X  one  wrinkle  from  the  brow  of  care,  or 
beguile  the  heavy  heart  of  one  moment 
of  sadness;  if  I  can,  now  and  then,  pen- 
etrate the  gathering  film  of  misanthropy, 
prompt  a   benevolent  view  of   human 
nature,  and  make  my  reader  more  in 
good  humour  with  his  fellow-beings  and 
himself,  surely,  surely  I  shall  not  have 
written  in  vain. 

— Washington  Irving. 

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«0(Y706 


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ftt#  isirxt  iHontiar  in  ^atwat:? 

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Goe  not  halfe-way  to  meete  a  coming  sorrowe, 
Butte  thankful  bee  for  blessings  of  to-day, 

And  pray  that  thou  mayest  blessed  bee  to-morrowe, 
So  shalt  thou  goe  with  joy  upon  thy  way. 

— Adolphus  Goss. 

m  For  Yesterday  is  but  a  Dream, 
And  To-morrow  is  only  a  Vision, 
But  To-day, 

Well  lived,  makes  every  Yesterday               z^ 
A  Dream  of  Happiness, 
And  every  To-morrow  a  Vision  of  Hope." 

A  sound  Mind  in  a  sound  Body  is  a  short  but  full 
description  of  a  happy  State  in  this  World.         Locke. 

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^econn  'Blue  jttontia?  in  ^January 

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I  once  gave  a  lady  two-and-twenty  receipts  against  mel- 
ancholy; one  was  a  bright  fire;  another,  to  remember  all  the 
pleasant  things  said  to  her;  another,  to  keep  a  box  of  sugar- 
plums on  the  chimney-piece  and  a  kettle  simmering  on  the 
hob.  I  thought  this  mere  trifling  at  the  moment,  but  have  in 
after  life  discovered  how  true  it  is  that  these  little  pleasures 
often  banish  melancholy  better  than  higher  and  more  exalted 
objects ;  and  that  no  means  ought  to  be  thought  too  trifling 
which  can  oppose  it  either  in  ourselves  or  in  others. 

— Sydney  Smith. 

"The  inner  side  of  every  cloud 

Is  bright  and  shining, 
I  therefore  turn  my  clouds  about 
And  always  wear  them  inside  out 

To  show  the  lining." 


You  needn't  pick  up  any  worries.   You  can  get  them 
anywhere  as  you  go  along.  __Mrs.  A.  D.  T#  Whitney. 

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C^fm  'Blue  jftonaai?  fn  %anmvy 

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I  send  thee  pansies  while  the  year  is  young, 

Yellow  as  sunshine,  purple  as  the  night; 
Flowers  of  remembrance,  ever  fondly  sung 

By  all  the  chief  est  of  the  Sons  of  Light; 
And  if  in  recollection  lives  regret 

For  wasted  days  and  dreams  that  were  not  true, 
I  tell  thee  that  the  "pansy  freaked  with  jet" 

Is  still  the  heart's-ease  that  the  poets  knew. 
Take  all  the  sweetness  of  a  gift  unsought, 
And  for  the  pansies  send  me  back  a  thought. 

^—              — Sarah  Doudney. 

Yellow  for  the  days  of  sunshine, 

White  for  days  of  peace  and  rest, 

Purple  ones  for  feasts  and  high  days, 
Wine  red  for  the  days  love  blest. 

—  Mildred  Howells. 

HeartVease  or  pansy,  pleasure  or  thought, 

Which  would  the  picture  give  us  of  these? 

Surely  the  heart  that  conceived  it  sought 

Heart' s-ease.                       — Algernon  S.vinburne. 

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<ffoutt£  "Blue  jttonfia?  in  %amxatt 

When  we  come  to  think  about  it  seriously,  it  is  rather 
absurd  for  us  to  expect  to  have  uninterrupted  stretches  of 
happiness.     Happiness  falls  to  our  share  in  separate  detached 
bits;  and  those  of  us  who  are  wise,  content  ourselves  with  the 
broken  fragments.                                      __  Beatrice  Harraden. 

If  you  are  happy  it  is  largely  to  your  own  credit.   If  you 
are  miserable  it  is  chiefly  your  own  fault.  ...  In  a  word, 
live  in  the  passive  voice,  waiting  for  good  to  come  to  you 
ready-made,  and  you  will  be  a  pessimist,  miserable  to  the  end 
of  your  days.    Live  in  the  active  voice,  intent  on  the  progress 
you  can  make  and  the  work  you  can  accomplish,  and  you 
will  acquire  the  art  of  optimism,  and  be  happy  forevermore. 

— William  De  Witt  Hyde. 

Some  men  are  optimists  until  they  judge  their  neighbors, 
and  others  are  pessimists  until  they  judge  themselves. 

—  G.  T.  Evans. 

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tfitjst  'Blue  jftou&ar  in  f  tbvmvy 


When  a  man  ain't  got  a  cent,  an*  he's  feelin'  kind  o*  blue, 
An*  the  clouds  hang  dark  an*  heavy,  an*  won't  let  the  sunshine 

through, 
It's  a  great  thing,  O  my  brethren,  for  a  feller  just  to  lay 
His  hand  upon  your  shoulder  in  a  friendly  sort  o'  way! 

It  makes  a  man  feel  curious;  it  makes  the  tear-drops  start, 

An'  you  sort  o*  feel  a  flutter  in  the  region  o*  the  heart 

You  can't  look  up  and  meet  his  eyes ;    you  don't  know  what 

to  say, 
When  his  hand  is  on  your  shoulder  in  a  friendly  sort  o*  way. 

— James  Whitcomb  Riley. 


During  a  long  life  I  have  proved  that  not  one  kind  word 
ever  spoken,  not  one  kind  deed  ever  done,  but  sooner  or  later 
returns  to  bless  the  giver,  and  becomes  a  chain  binding  men 
with  golden  bands  to  the  throne  of  God. 

—  Lord  Shaftesbury. 


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^econu  TSlut  jttonfcn?  in  tfebwar? 

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There  is  no  day  so  dark, 
But  through  the  murksome  ray  of  hope  may  steal 
Some  blessed  touch  from  heaven,  that  we  may  feel, 

If  we  but  choose  to  mark. 

We  shut  the  portals  fast 
And  turn  the  key  and  let  no  sunshine  in; 
Yet  to  the  worst  despair  that  comes  through  sin 

God's  light  shall  reach  at  last. 

^___  — Celia  Thaxter, 

It  is  best  to  let  old  troubles  sleep; 
Why  need  to  rouse  them?   You  are  happy,  sure  I 
But  if  one  asks,  "Art  happy?"  why,  it  sets 
The  thoughts  a- working.    No,  say  I ;  let  love, 
Let  peace  and  happy  folk  alone. 

— Jean  Ingelow. 

Well,  Job  had  many  a  pain  to  try  his  temper,  and  he 
kept  it,  but  the  Lord  knew  where  he  was  weak,  and  never  sent 
a  woman  to  ask  him  questions.  _H  ..  c  . 


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€#rt)  iBlue  jtton&ai?  in  fitbvumy 
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Submission  to  what  people  call  their  "lot"  is  simply  ig- 
noble.   If  your  lot  makes  you  cry  and  be  wretched,  get  rid 
of  it  and  take  another;  strike  out  for  yourself;  don't  listen  to 
the  shrieks  of  your  relations,  to  their  gibes  or  their  entrea- 
ties; .  . .  don't  be  afraid  of  public  opinion  in  the  shape  of  the 
neighbor  in  the  next  house,  when  all  the  world  is  before  you 
new  and  shining,  and  everything  is  possible,  if  you  will  only 
be  energetic  and  independent  and  seize  opportunity  by  the 
scuff  of  the  neck.      —"Elizabeth  and  Her  Wtt^m Garden." 

One  satisfied  with  what  must  be  her  lot, — 
'Twas  not  a  corner  lot,  serenely  meant 

Never  to  wander  from   her  humble  cot, 

Made  beautiful  by  wise  and  sweet  content 

And  one,  dissatisfied  with  all  he  had, 

Roved  from  his  place  into  the  world's  mad  whirl. 

What  did  he  find?   Well,  it  was  not  so  bad:  — 
The  fellow  found  that  cottage  and  that  girl 
— Alice  Wellington  Rollins. 

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If 

I've  brought  some  snowdrops, —  only  just  a  few, 
But  quite  enough  to  prove  the  world  awake 

Cheerful  and  hopeful  in  the  frosty  dew, 
And  for  the  pale  sun's  sake. 

—  Christina  G.  Rossetti. 

Is  it  rainy,  little  flower? 

Be  glad  of  rain. 
Too  much  sun  would  wither  thee; 

'Twill  shine  again. 
The  clouds  are  very  black,  'tis  true, 
But  just  behind  them  shines  the  blue. 

—  M.  F.Butts. 

The  Sun, —  God's  crest   upon   his   azure   shield,  the 
heavens.                                                    —Philip  Bailey. 

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Be  useful  where  thou  livest,  that  they  may 
Both  want  and  wish  thy  pleasing  presence  still. 

— Find  out  men's  wants  and  will, 
And  meet  them  there.   All  worldly  joys  go  less 
To  the  one  joy  of  doing  kindnesses. 

^____              — George  Herbert. 

i 

God  gives  each  man  one  life,  like  a  lamp,  then  gives 

That  lamp  due  measure  of  oil;  lamp  lighted,  hold  high,  wave 

wide          # 
Its  comfort  for  others  to  share.            — Robert  Browning. 

As  "unkindnes*s  has  no  remedy  at  law,"  let  its  avoidance 
be  with  you  a  point  of  honor.                    —  Hosea  Ballou. 

The  golden  rule  of  Christ  will  bring  the  golden  age  to 
man-                                                                  —  Frances  Willard. 

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^>econti  'Blue  flitmbav  in  piavtf) 

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If  no  one  ever  marries  me 

I  shaVt  mind  very  much; 
I  shall  buy  a  squirrel  in  a  cage 

And  a  little  rabbit  hutch. 

I  shall  have  a  cottage  near  a  wood, 

And  a  pony  all  my  own, 
And  a  little  lamb  quite  clean  and  tame 

That  I  can  take  to  town. 

And  when  I'm  getting  really  old, 
— At  twenty-eight  or  nine — 

I  shall  buy  a  little  orphan  girl 
And  bring  her  up  as  mine. 

—  Laurens  Alma  -Tadema. 

If  wrinkles  must  be  written  upon  our  brows,  let  them 
not  be  written  upon  the  heart.   The  spirit  should  not  grow  old. 

— James  A.  Garfield. 


•10- 


e#rt>  'Blue  fsionnay  in  iEarc^ 

m 

There  is  surely  a  vernal  solstice  for  us  also,  and  we  must 
not  bar  out  the  sun's  rays  if  we  would  start  afresh !  "  Let  the 
dead  past  bury  its  dead** ;  for  us  a  new  turning-point  is  reached. 
We  will  neither  repine  nor  look  backward ;  forward  and  up- 
ward is  the  call  of  the  spring ;  life  which  conquers  and  tri- 
umphs is  the  Easter  story.  —  m^.  james  Farley  Cox. 

I  might  mention  all  the  charms  of  a  bright  spring  day, 
but  if  you  had  never  in  your  life  utterly  forgotten  yourself  in 
straining  your  eyes  after  the  mountain-lark,  in  wandering 
through  still  lanes  when  freshly  opened  flowers  filled  them 
with  a  sacred,  silent  beauty — where  would  be  the  use  of  my 
descriptive  catalogue?  I  could  never  make  you  know  what  I 
meant  by  a  bright  spring  day.  —George  Eliot. 

It  is  as  manifestly  unfair  to  judge  of  a  place  by  its 
March  as  to  judge  a  mans  disposition  by  the  hour  before 
dinner.  —Elizabeth  Stuart  Phelps. 


-11- 


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ft outty  "Blue  iftonDa?  in  jHarc]} 

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If  all  the  skies  were  sunshine, 

Our  faces  would  be  fain 
To  feel  once  more  upon  them 

The  cooling  plash  of  rain. 

If  all  the  world  were  music, 

Our  hearts  would  often  long 

For  one  sweet  strain  of  silence 
To  break  the  endless  song. 

If  life  were  always  merry, 

Our  souls  would  seek  relief 

And  rest  from  weary  laughter 
In  the  quiet  arms  of  grief. 

—  Henry  Van  Dyke. 

God  set  some  souls  in  shade  alone, 
They  have  no  daylight  of  their  own ; 
Only  in  lives  of  happier  ones 
They  see  the  shine  of  distant  suns. 

—  Mrs.  A.  D.T.Whitney. 

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ifffftij  'hint  itton&a?  in  fmtty 
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A  life  of  slothful  ease,  a  life  of  that  peace  which  springs 
merely  from  lack  either  of  desire  or  of  power  to  strive  after 
great  things,  is  as  little  worthy  of  a  nation  as  of  an  individual. 

— Theodore  Roosevelt 


The  men  whom  I  have  seen  succeed  best  in  life  have 
always  been  cheerful  and  hopeful  men,  who  went  about  their 
business  with  a  smile  on  their  faces,  and  took  the  changes  and 
chances  of  this  mortal  life  like  men,  facing  rough  and  smooth 
alike  as  it  came,  and  so  found  the  truth  of  the  old  proverb 
that  "good  times  and  bad  times  and  all  times  pass  on." 

—  Charles  Kingsley . 


No  work  is  worth  doing  badly,  and  he  who  puts  his 
best  into  every  task  that  comes  to  him  will  surely  outstrip  the 
man  who  waits  for  a  great  opportunity  before  he  condescends 
to  exert  himself.  —Joseph  Chamberlain. 


_  IS 


tffrjst  TSlut  jftonton?  in  aptfl 

m 

The  most  completely  lost  of  all  days  is  the  one  in  which 
we  have  not  laughed.  __  —  Chamfort. 

Great  and  wise  men  have  ever  loved  laughter.  The  vain, 
the  ignorant,  the  dishonest,  the  pretentious  alone  have  dreaded 
or  despised  it,  -    -  — Fra  Elburtus. 

I  am  persuaded  that  every  time  a  man  smiles, —  but  much 
more  so  when  he  laughs, —  it  adds  something  to  his  fragment 
of  life.  _  —Sterne. 

Would  ye  leam  the  road  to  Laughtertown, 

O  ye  who  have  lost  the  way? 
Would  ye  have  young  heart  though  your  hair  be  gray? 
Go  learn  from  a  little  child  each  day. 
Go  serve  his  wants  and  play  his  play, 
And  catch  the  lilt  of  his  laughter  gay, 
And  follow  his  dancing  feet  as  they  stray; 
For  he  knows  the  road  to  Laughtertown, 
O  ye  who  have  lost  the  way ! 

—  Katherine  D.  Blake. 


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^ecotrt  'Blue  ittonton?  in  aptil 

m 

What  would  become  of  you  if  it  had  pleased  Providence 
to  make  the  weather  unchangeable?          —Sydney  Smith. 

"Whatever  the  weather  may  be,"  says  he, 

"Whatever  the  weather  may  be, 
It 's  the  songs  ye  sing,  and  the  smiles  ye  wear, 
That's  a  makin'  the  sun  shine  everywhere." 

_____  — James  Whitcomb  Riley. 

"Young  man,"  remarked  the  philosopher,  "it  is  foolish 
for  you  to  find  fault  with  the  weather.  You  ought  to  be 
grateful  for  the  blessings  you  have.  As  for  myself,  when  I 
wake  in  the  morning  I  thank  God  that  there  is  any  weather 
at  all."                                  

"  Life  is  sweet,  brother !  There's  day  and  night,  brother! 
both  sweet  things ;  sun,  moon,  and  stars,  brother !  all  sweet 
things.   There  is  likewise  a  wind  on  the  heath." 

A  day's  grief  out  of  some  a  year's  life  washes ; 
Some  shed  it  like  ducks'  backs  and  mackintoshes. 

— N.  P.  WilEs. 

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••15* 

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C^ira  'Blue  jttonaai?  in  aptil 

Go,  make  thy  garden  fair  as  thou  canst, 

Thou  workest  never  alone ; 
Perchance  he  whose  plot  is  next  to  thine 

Will  see  it,  and  mend  his  own. 

-  —  Robert  Collyer. 

Sow  with  a  generous  hand; 
Pause  not  for  toil  or  pain; 
Sow,  and  look  onward,  upward; 
You  shall  reap  in  joy  the  harvest 
You  have  sown  to-day  in  tears. 

—  Adelaide  A.  Procter. 

The  years  are  flowers  and  bloom  within 

Eternity's  wide  garden ; 
The  rose  for  joy,  the  thorn  for  sin, 

The  gardener  God,  to  pardon 
All  wilding  growths,  to  prune,  reclaim, 
And  make  them  rose-like  in  His  name. 

—  Richard  Burton. 


►16- 


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fourth  'Blue  ittonuat  in  aptfl 

Ml 

Half  the  gossip  of  society  would  perish,  if  the  books 
that  are  truly  worth  reading  were  but  read.       —Dawson. 


Mark  there !   We  get  no  good 
By  being  ungenerous,  even  to  a  book, 
And  calculating  profits  ...  so  much  help 
By  so  much  reading.    It  is  rather  when 
We  gloriously  forget  ourselves  and  plunge 
Soul-forward,  headlong,  into  a  book's  profound, 
Impassioned  for  its  beauty  and  salt  of  truth  — 
Tis  then  we  get  the  right  good  from  a  book. 

—  Elizabeth  B.  Browning. 

A  good  book,  whether  a  novel  or  not,  is  one  that  leaves 
you  further  on  than  when  you  took  it  up.  If  when  you  drop 
it,  it  drops  you  down  in  the  same  old  spot,  with  no  finer  out- 
look, no  clearer  vision,  no  stimulated  desires  for  that  which  is 
better  and  higher,  it  is  in  no  sense  a  good  book. 

— Anna  Warner. 


-17- 


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fiim  TSlut  jtton&a?  in  jtta? 
mi 

I  think  the  pale  blue  clouds  of  May 
Drop  down  and  turn  to  flowers. 

— Thomas  B.  Aldrich. 

A  branch  of  May  we  have  brought  you, 

And  at  your  door  it  stands ; 
It  is  but  a  sprout,  but  it's  budded  out 

By  the  work  of  our  Lord's  hands. 

—  May- day  Carol. 

There  is  May  in  books  forever: 
May  will  part  from  Spenser  never; 
May's  in  Milton,  May's  in  Prior, 
May's  in  Chaucer,  Thomson,  Byer, 
May's  in  all  the  Italian  books, 
Where  she  sleeps  with  nymphs  and  elves 
In  happy  places  they  call  shelves, 
And  will  rise  and  dress  your  rooms 
With  a  drapery  thick  with  blooms. 

—  Leigh  Hunt. 

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Some  people  have  to  have  their  sunshine  warm;  others 
are  satisfied  just  with  its  being  sunshine. 

— Alice  Wellington  Rollins. 

Those  who  bring  sunshine  to  the  lives  of  others  cannot 
keep  it  from  themselves.                                 — j  m.  Barrie. 

It  was  only  a  glad  "good  morning,** 
As  she  passed  along  the  way; 

But  it  spread  the  morning's  glory 

Over  the  livelong  day.  —  Carlotta  Perry. 

Life  is  made  up,  not  of  great  sacrifices  or  duties,  but  of 
little  things,  in  which  smiles  and  kindnesses  and  small  obliga- 
tions given  habitually  are  what  win  and  preserve  the  heart, 
and  secure  comfort.                                       — Sir  H.  Davy. 

d 

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HH 

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3 

€#tf>  "Blue  iHon&a?  fit  $iai? 

Ml 

I  know  a  place  where  the  sun  is  like  gold, 
And  the  cherry  blooms  burst  with  snow, 

And  down  underneath  is  the  loveliest  nook 
Where  the  four-leaf  clovers  grow. 

One  leaf  is  for  hope,  and  one  is  for  faith, 

And  one  is  for  love,  you  know ; 
And  God  put  another  one  in  for  luck, — 

If  you  search  you  will  find  where  they  grow. 

But  you  must  have  hope,  and  you  must  have  faith, 
You  must  love  and  be  strong ;  and  so, 

If  you  work,  if  you  wait,  you  will  find  the  place 
Where  the  four-leaf  clovers  grow. 

— Ella  Higginson. 

Flowers  have  an  expression  of  countenance  as  much  as 
men  or  animals.    Some  seem  to  smile ;    some  have  a  sad  ex- 
pression; some  are  pensive  and  diffident;  others  again  are 
plain,  honest,  and  upright,  like  the  broad-faced  sunflower  and 
the  hollyhock.                                 __  Henry  Wasd  Bmam 

d 

h 

■ 

q 

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tfouttlj  'Blue  jttonDa?  fn  jfttav 

w 

Wings  for  the  angels,  but  feet  for  men ! 

We  may  borrow  the  wings  to  find  the  way; 

We  may  hope  and  resolve,  aspire  and  pray; 
But  our  feet  must  rise,  or  we  fall  again. 

Only  in  dreams  is  a  ladder  thrown 

From  the  weary  earth  to  the  sapphire  walls ; 

But  the  dreams  depart  and  the  vision  falls, 
And  the  sleeper  wakes  on  his  pillow  of  stone. 

Heaven  is  not  reached  at  a  single  bound, 

But  we  build  the  ladder  by  which  we  rise 
From  the  lowly  earth  to  trie  vaulted  skies, 

And  we  mount  to  the  summit  round  by  round. 

—J.  G.  Holland. 

If  hell  is  paved  with  resolutions,  heaven  is  vaulted  with 
them.                                                   —  Maud  Wilder  Goodwin. 

d 

h 

I-2H 

Dl  ID 

m 

Talk  happiness :  the  world  Is  sad  enough 
Without  your  woes.    No  path  is  wholly  rough. 
Look  for  the  places  that  are  smooth  and  clear, 
And  speak  of  those  to  rest  the  weary  ear 
Of  earth,  so  hurt  by  one  continuous  strain 
Of  human  discontent  and  pain. 

Talk  health :  the  dreary,  never-changing  tale 
Of  mortal  maladies  is  worn  and  stale. 
You  cannot  charm,  or  interest,  or  please 
By  harping  on  that  minor  chord,  disease. 
Say  you  are  well,  or  all  is  well  with  you, 
And  God  shall  hear  your  words  and  make  them  true. 
■  — "  Success." 

Talk  about  happiness !  Why,  a  well  beggar  has  a  better 
time  of  it  than  a  sick  king,  any  day.  Amber. 

The  gayest  castles  in  the  air  are  better  for  comfort  and 
for  use  than  the  dungeons  in  the  air  that  are  daily  dug  by  dis- 
contented people.  — Emerson. 


-22- 


q 

D 

an 

Some   people  are  always  finding  fault  with  nature  for 
putting  thorns  on  roses :  I  always  thank  her  for  putting  roses 
on  thorns.                               — Alphonse  Karr. 

Why  came  the  rose  ?    Because  the  sun  in  shining, 
Found  in  the  mould  some  atoms  rare  and  fine : 

And  stooping,  drew  and  warmed  them  into  growing, — 
Dust,  with  the  spirit's  mystic  countersign. 

i         — Mary  Louise  Ritter. 

Wild  Rose 

Some  innocent  girlish  Kisses  by  a  charm 

Changed  to  a  flight  of  small  pink  Butterflies, 
To  waver  under  June's  delicious  skies 

Across  gold-sprinkled  meads  —  the  merry  swarm 

A  smiling  powerful  word  did  next  transform 
To  little  Roses  mesh'd  in  green,  allies 
Of  earth  and  air,  and  everything  we  prize 

For  mirthful,  gentle,  delicate,  and  warm. 

— William  AUingham. 

b 

jh*d 

q 

p 

^•econn  "Blue  jtton&a?  in  3|une 

Do  you  ask  what  the  birds  say?  The  sparrow,  the  dove, 
The  linnet  and  thrush  say,  "1  love,  and  I  love!" 
In  the  winter  they're  silent;  the  wind  is  so  strong; 
What  it  says  I  don't  know,  but  it  sings  a  loud  song. 
But  green  leaves,  and  blossoms,  and  sunny  warm  weather, 
And  singing  and  loving, —  all  come  back  together. 
But  the  lark  is  so  brimful  of  gladness  and  love, 
The  green  fields  below  him,  the  blue  sky  above, 
That  he  sings,  and  he  sings,  and  forever,  sings  he, 
"  I  love  my  love,  and  my  love  loves  me." 

— Samuel  Coleridge. 

"The  bird  that  soars  on  highest  wing 

Builds  on  the  ground  her  lowly  nest ; 
And  she  that  doth  most  sweetly  sing, 

Sings  in  the  shade  when  all  things  rest : 
In  lark  and  nightingale,  we  see 
What  honor  hath  Humility." 

d 

h 

taa-l 

€#«>  'Blue  itton&a?  in  3Itme 

m 

Rose  dreamed  she  was  a  lily, 

Lily  dreamed  she  was  a  rose ; 

Robin  dreamed  he  was  a  sparrow, 

What  the  owl  dreamed  no  one  knows. 

But  they  all  woke  up  together 

As  happy  as  could  be, 
Said  each  one :  "  You  're  lovely,  neighbor, 

But  I'm  very  glad  I'm  me.°  M.  EL 

Life's  attar  of  roses  is  as  rare  as  it  is  precious,  and  it 
takes  the  sunshine  of  many  summers  and  the  braving  of  many 
thorns  to  produce  a  single  drop.  But  that  drop  when  pro- 
duced is  worth  all  that  it  cost,  and  the  perfume  of  it  will  last 
forever.  — £Hen  Thorneycroft  Fowler. 

The  least  flower,  with  a  brimming  cup,  may  stand  and 
share  its  dew-drops  with  another  near. 

—  Elizabeth  B.  Browning. 

dl  — i  is  i 


□ 

D 

tftnxvty  "Blue  pLonbay  in  fune 

m 

Life  is  but  once;  we  shall  never  pass  this  way  again; 
Drink  the  cup,  wear  the  roses,  live  the  verses. 

—  Mary  Johnston. 

Gather  ye  rosebuds  while  ye  may, 

Old  Time  is  still  a-flying ; 
And  the  same  flower  that  smiles  today 

Tomorrow  will  be  dying. 

The  glorious  Lamp  of  Heaven,  the  Sun, 

The  higher  he's  a-getting, 
The  sooner  will  his  Race  be  run, 

And  nearer  he's  to  setting. 

—  Robert  Herrick. 

The  rose  upon  my  balcony,  the  morning  air  perfuming, 

Was  leafless  all  the  winter-time  and  pining  for  the  spring; 

You  ask  me  why  her  breath  is  sweet,  and  why  her  cheek  is 

.     .       blooming, — 

It  is  because  the  sun  is  out  and  birds  begin  to  sing. 

—  Thackeray. 

d 

HH 

q 

r 

f iffl  TBlue  jEmt&a?  fn  9Iulv 

Ni 

I  slept  and  dreamed  that  life  was  Beauty: 
I  woke  and  found  that  life  was  Duty: 
Was  then  thy  dream  a  shadowy  lie  ? 
Toil  on  sad  heart  courageously, 
And  thou  shalt  find  thy  dream  to  be 
A  noonday  light  and  truth  to  thee. 

—  Ellen  Sturgis  Hooper. 

There  is  only  one  stimulant  that  never  fails,  and   yet 
never  intoxicates, — Duty.    Duty  puts  a  blue  sky  over  every 
man, —  up  in  his  heart,  maybe, —  into  which  the  skylark,  hap- 
piness, always  goes  singing.                       __G  D.  prentice. 

With  most  men  duty  means  something  unpleasant  which 
the  other  fellow  ought  to  do.        —George  Horace  Lorimer. 

The  sum  of  duty  let  two  words  contain, 
(O  may  they  graven  in  thy  heart  remain!) 
Be  humble  and  be  just.           —Matthew  Prior. 

h 

-27- 

q 

3 

m 

Who  shall  despair  while  the  fields  of  earth  are  sown 
with  flowers  and  the  fields  of  heaven  blossom  with  stars  ? 

—  Hamilton  Wright  Mabie. 

Think  not  the  distant  stars  are  cold ;  say  not  the  forces 
of  the  universe  are  against  thee ;  believe  not  that  the  course 
of  things  below  is  a  relentless  fate,  for  thou  canst  see  the  stars, 
thou  canst  use  the  forces :  if  right,  thy  will  is  unconquerable, 
and  by  it  thou  art  the  maker  and  lord  of  destiny. 

—  Giles. 

A  beam  of  light  from  the  infinite  depths  of  the  midnight  sky, 

Painted  with  infinite  love  a  star  in  a  convict's  eye ; 

When,  lo!  the  ghosts  of  his  sins  were  afraid  and  fled  with  a 

curse, 
And  the  soul  of  the  man  walked  free  in  the  fields  of  the 

universe.                                          _jonn  Jerome  Rooney. 

d 

h 

••28* 

q 

D 

C^frD  T5lm  jttonDa?  in  3!ul? 

Ml 

Saw  the  rainbow  in  the  heaven, 
In  the  Eastern  sky,  the  rainbow, 
Whispered,  "What  is  that,  Nokomis?" 
And  the  good  Nokomis  answered : 
"Tis  the  heaven  of  flowers  you  see  there; 
-     All  the  wild-flowers  of  the  forest, 
All  the  lilies  of  the  prairie, 
When  on  earth  they  fade  and  perish, 
Blossom  in  that  heaven  above  us." 

— Longfellow. 

O  beautiful  rainbow; — all  woven  of  light! 

There's  not  in  thy  tissue  one  shadow  of  night: 

Heaven  surely  is  open  when  thou  dost  appear, 
And,  bending  above  thee,  the  angels  draw  near, 

And  sing, — "The  rainbow!  the  rainbow! 
The  smile  of  God  is  here." 

—  Mrs.  Sarah  J.  Hale. 

d 

h 

•»29«- 

q 

n 

tfoutti&  T5lut  jfton&a?  in  %\x\y 

m 

Though  we  should  be  grateful  for  good  homes,  there  is 
no  house  like  God's  out-of-doors. 

—  Robert  Louis  Stevenson. 

To  one  who  has  been  long  in  city  pent, 
'Tis  very  sweet  to  look  into  the  fair 
And  open  face  of  heaven, —  to  breathe  a  prayer 

Full  in  the  smile  of  the  blue  firmament. 

Who  is  more  happy,  when,  with  heart's  content, 
Fatigued  he  sinks  into  some  pleasant  lair 
Of  wavy  grass,  and  reads  a  debonair 

And  gentle  tale  of  love  and  languishment  ? 

Returning  home  at  evening,  with  an  ear 

Catching  the  notes  of  Philomel, —  an  eye 

Watching  the  sailing  cloudlet's  bright  career, 

He  mourns  that  day  so  soon  has  glided  by: 

E'en  like  the  passage  of  an  angel's  tear 

That  falls  through  the  clear  ether  silently. 

— John  Keats. 

d 

h 

•»30*» 

q 

p 

ffrjst  'Blue  pumbay  in  august 

m 

Auspicious  Hope!  in  thy  sv-r*  garden  grow 
Wreaths  for  each  toil,  a  charm  for  every  woe. 

___                         — Campbell. 

Hope  is  like  a  harebell,  trembling  from  its  birth, 
Love  is  like  a  rose,  the  joy  of  all  the  earth ; 
Faith  is  like  a  lily,  lifted  high  and  white, 
Love  is  like  a  lovely  rose,  the  world's  delight ; 
Harebells  and  sweet  lilies  show  a  thornless  growth, 
But  the  rose  with  all  its  thorns  excels  them  both. 

—  Christina  G.  Rossetti. 

Hope  looks  for  something  every  morning,  otherwise  life 
would  be  impossible.                              _  Henry  Sienkiewicz. 

I  find  earth  not  gray  but  rosy, 

Heaven  not  grim  but  fair  of  hue. 

Do  I  stoop  ?    I  pluck  a  posy. 

Do  I  stand  and  stare?    All's  blue. 

—  Robert  Browning. 

d 

h 

••31* 

q 

P 

m 

Throughout  the  living  summer  day 
The  Leaf  and  twin-born  Shadow  play 

Till  Leaf  to  Shadow  fade, 
Then,  hidden  for  a  season  brief, 
They  dream,  till  Shadow  turn  to  Leaf, 

As  Leaf  was  turned  to  Shade. 

—John  B.  Tabb. 

Leaves  are  light  and  useless,  and  idle,  and  wavering,  and 
changeable ;  they  even  dance ;  yet  God  has  made  them  part 
of  the  oak.    In  so  doing  He  has  given  us  a  lesson  not  to  deny 
the   stout-heartedness  within,  because  we  see  lightsomeness 
without.                                                                          —Hare. 

The  soul's  dark  cottage,  battered  and  decayed, 
Lets  in  new  light  through  chinks  that  time  has  made. 

—  Edmund  Waller. 

d 

|«M~| 

C&irt  "Blue  jtton&n?  in  augugt 

m 

Build  a  little  fence  of  trust 

Around  to-day: 
Fill  the  space  with  loving  work 

And  therein  stay. 
Peer  not  through  the  sheltering  bars 

At  to-morrow : 
God  will  help  thee  bear  what  comes 

Of  joy  or  sorrow.  _Mrs.  M#  p.  Butts. 


Sorrow  itself  is  not  so  hard  to  bear  as  the  thought  of 
sorrow  coming.  Airy  ghosts  that  work  no  harm  do  terrify  us 
more  than  men  in  steel  with  bloody  purpose. 

— T.  B.  Aldrich. 

Grief  is  always  conceited.  It  always  thinks  its  case  pe- 
culiar and  unmatched.  —Henry  Ward  Beecher. 

The  habit  of  looking  on  the  best  side  of  every  event  is 
worth  more  than  a  thousand  pounds  a  year.       —Johnson. 


-33- 


q 

D 

{fourth  I3lue  ittonHa^  in  august 
m 

Awake !    Arise !  the  hour  is  late ! 

Angels  are  knocking  at  thy  door! 
They  are  in  haste  and  cannot  wait, 

And  once  departed  come  no  more. 

_____                    —  Longfellow. 

Once  only  did  the  Angel  stir 

The  pool,  whereat  She  paused  in  pain: 
Another's  step  outspeeded  her ; 

The  waters  ne'er  have  moved  again. 

—John  B.Tabb. 

Once,  perhaps,  in  each  crisis  of  our  lives  our  guardian 
angel  stands  before  us  with  his  hand  full  of  golden  opportunity, 
which  if  we  grasp,  it  is  well  with  us;  but  woe  to  us  if  we 
turn  our  backs  sullenly  on  our  gentle  visitor,  and  scorn  his 
celestial  gift!    Never  again  is  the  gracious  treasure  offered, 
and  the  favorable  moment  returns  no  more. 

— Maxwell  Gray. 

b 

h34*! 

□ 

p 

jffft^  TBlue  ittontwi?  in  august 

»* 

If  wishing  were  being,  we'd  all  be  beautiful, 
Healthy  and  wealthy,  wise  and  dutiful; 
If  wishing  were  having — what  pleasure  untold; 
With  a  heartful  of  joy  and  purseful  of  gold! 

But  wishes,  alas !  are  but  empty  bubbles, 
And  the  longing  heart  may  teem  with  troubles, 
So  idle  wishing  is  vain,  forsooth, 
As  the  endless  search  for  the  fountain  of  youth. 

But  work  that  holds  wealth  may  be  had  for  the  taking, 
Though  it  may  not  bring  health,  'tis  a  balm  for  heart-aching; 
And  study  makes  wise,  and  love,  people  say, 
Gives  the  beauty  that's  truest,  which  lasts  for  aye. 

Then  away  with  longing,  and  ho !  for  labor  1 
And  ho !  for  love  —  each  one  for  his  neighbor ! 
For  a  life  of  labor  and  study  and  love 
Is  the  life  that  fits  for  the  joy  above. 

—  Emma  C.  DowcL 

D 

b 

|»35-1 

al  In 

f  irist  'Blue  jfton&a?  in  September 
W 


Labor,  the  symbol  of  man  s  punishment ; 
Labor,  the  secret  of  mans  happiness. 

— James  Montgomery. 

Men  have  certain  work  to  do  for  their  bread,  and  that 
is  to  be  done  strenuously;  others  work  for  their  delight,  and 
that  is  to  be  done  heartily;  neither  is  to  be  done  by  halves  or 
shifts,  but  with  a  will,  and  what  is  not  worth  that  effort  is  not 
to  be  done  at  all.  __jonn  Ruskin. 

What  though  unmarked  the  happy  workman  toil, 

And  break  unthanked  of  men  the  stubborn  clod? 

It  is  enough,  for  sacred  is  the  toil; 

Dear  are  the  hills  of  God.  _jean  fog^. 


Labor  is  discovered  to  be  the  grand  conqueror,  enriching 
and  building  up  nations  more  surely  than  the  proudest  battles. 

— William  Ellery  Channing. 

1 1.  _ 

"i  oar 


n 


^econa  islut  ittou&a?  in  September 

m 

"Don't  never  pay  t'  go  lookin*  fer  trouble  —  it's  tew 
easy  t'  find.  There  ain't  no  sech  thing's  trouble  *n  this  world 
'less  ye  look  fer  it.  Happiness  won't  hev  nuthin*  t'  dew  with 
a  man  thet  likes  trouble.  'Minnit  a  man  stops  lookin'  fer 
trouble  happiness  '11  look  fer  him."  Irving  Bacheller. 

A  trouble  either  can  be  remedied,  or  it  cannot  If  it 
can  be,  then  set  about  it ;  if  it  cannot  be,  dismiss  it  from  con- 
sciousness, or  bear  it  so  bravely  that  it  may  become  trans- 
figured to  a  blessing.  _  jjiian  Whiting. 

Some  of  your  griefs  you  have  cured, 

And  the  sharpest  you  still  have  survived; 

But  what  torments  of  pain  you  endured 
From  evils  that  never  arrived ! 

— Adapted  from  the  French. 

Those  who  borrow  trouble  multiply  it,  and  then  lend  it 
to  their  friends.  _  Ch^e,  Peake# 


-37- 


D 

qfyvb  TSlut  jftonDar  in  ^eptetttibet? 
Mi 

"Now  is  the  time!  ah,  friend,  no  longer  wait 
To  scatter  loving  smiles  and  words  of  cheer 
To  those  around  whose  lives  may  be  so  drear; 
They  may  not  need  you  in  the  coming  year — 
Now  is  the  time!" 

Boys  flying  kites  haul  in  their  white-winged  birds; 
You  can  t  do  that  when  you're  flying  words. 
Thoughts  unexpressed  may  sometimes  fall  back  dead, 
But  God  himself  can't  kill  them  when  they're  said. 
—Will  Carleton. 

Every  year  I  live  I  am  more  convinced  that  the  waste 
of  life  lies  in  the  love  we  have  not  given,  the  powers  we  have 
not  used,  the  selfish  prudence  that  will  risk  nothing,  and  which, 
shirking  pain,  misses  happiness  as  well.    No  one  ever  yet  was 
the  poorer  in  the  long  run  for  having  once  in  a  lifetime  "let 
out  all  the  length  of  all  the  reins."    —Mary  Cholmondeley. 

h 

1 

-38- 

q 

D 

• 

fourth  'Blue  jftonna?  in  September 
III 

If  things  go  wrong  in  the  household, 

As  they  often  will,  you  know, 
Or  you're  worried  out  with  cares  that  vex, 

And  the  children  try  you  so, 
Don't  sit  in  the  vale  of  shadows 

Or  stoop  to  be  a  scold: 
'Twill  only  make  bad  worse,  you  see, 

While  you  grow  gray  and  old. 

— mm^m                    —  Helen  Rich. 

If  you'll  sing  a  song  as  you  go  along, 
In  the  face  of  the  real  or  fancied  wrong, 
In  spite  of  the  doubt  if  you'll  fight  it  out, 
And  show  a  heart  that  is  brave  and  stout; 
If  you'll  laugh  at  the  jeer  and  refuse  the  tears, 
You'll  force  the  ever-reluctant  cheers 
That  the  world  denies  when  a  coward  cries, 
To  give  to  the  man  who  bravely  tries. 
And  you'll  win  success  with  a  little  song — 
If  you'll  sing  the  song  as  you  go  along! 

—  Robert  McClain  Fields. 

d 

h 

••39-| 

□ 


tfirsst  %lm  jttotttiar  ftt  ®ttobzt 

m 

My  crown  is  in  my  heart,  not  on  my  head ; 
Not  decked  with  diamonds  and  Indian  stones, 
Not  to  be  seen:  my  crown  is  called  Content; 
A  crown  it  is  that  seldom  kings  enjoy. 

__^  —  Shakespeare. 

There  is  a  jewel  which  no  Indian  mines 
Can  buy,  no  chymic  art  can  counterfeit; 
It  makes  men  rich  in  greatest  poverty, 
Makes  water  wine,  turns  wooden  cups  to  gold, 
The  homely  whistle  to  sweet  music's  strain: 
Seldom  it  comes,  to  few  from  heaven  sent, 
That  much  in  little,  all  in  naught, — Content. 

—  Seventeenth  Century  Madrigal. 

"He  that  holds  fast  the  golden  mean, 
And  lives  contentedly  between 

The  little  and  the  great, 
Feels  not  the  wants  that  pinch  the  poor, 
Nor  plagues  that  haunt  the  rich  man's  door 
Embittering  all  his  state." 


-40- 


q 

^econti  'Blue  ittontiat  in  flDctober 

m 

Our  common  mother  rests  and  sings 

Like  Ruth,  among  her  garnished  sheaves; 

Her  lap  is  full  of  goodly  things, 

Her  brow  is  bright  with  autumn  leaves. 

— Whittier. 

*Tis  all  a  myth  that  Autumn  grieves! 
For,  watch  the  rain  among  the  leaves; 
With  silver  fingers  dimly  seen 
It  makes  each  leaf  a  tambourine, 
And  swings  and  leaps  with  elfin  mirth 
To  kiss  the  brow  of  mother  earth ; 
Or,  laughing  'mid  the  trembling  grass, 
It  nods  a  greeting  as  you  pass. 
Oh!  hear  the  rain  amid  the  leaves, 
T  is  all  a  myth  that  Autumn  grieves! 

— Samuel  Minturn  Peck, 

d 

— n 

|«M!» 

q 

— 1  1 

€#tti  TSlut  ffiovfoay  in  flDctobet 

Ml 

People  say  sometimes,  "See  what  I  have  overcome;  see 
how  cheerful  I  am;   see  how  completely  I  have  triumphed 
over  these  black  events ! "    Not  if  they  still  remind  me  of  the 
black  event.                                       _  R^h  Waldo  Emerson. 

Put  a  seal  upon  your  lips  and  forget  what  you  have 
done     After  you  have  been  kind,  after  love  has  stolen  forth 
into  the  world  and  done  its  beautiful  work,  go  back  into  the 
shade  again  and  say  nothing  about  it    Love  hides  even  from 
ltselr.                                                          —  Henry  Drammond. 

Our  Maker  Himself  has  taught  us  the  value  of  silence 
by  putting  us  speechless  into  the  world ;  if  we  learn  to  talk 
later  we  do  it  at  our  risk.                          —Edith  Wharton. 

Were  we  as  eloquent  as  angels,  we  should  please  some 
men,  some  women,  and  some  children  much  more  by  listening 
than  by  talking.                                            — C.  C.  Cotton. 

d 

|fcfid 

q 

p 

* 

fimxtit)  TBlue  jttontia?  in  October 

m 

"Don't  you  go  and  git  sorry  fer  yerself.    That's  one 
thing  I  can't  stand  in  nobody.   There's  always  lots  of  other 
folks  you  kin  be  sorry  fer  *sted  of  yerself.   Ain't  you  proud 
you  ain't  got  a  harelip  ?    Why,  that  one  thought  is  enough  to 
keep  me  from  ever  gittin  sorry  fer  myself. 

—Alice  Hegan  (Rice). 

"As  I  walked  by  myself 
I  talked  with  myself, 

And  myself  said  this  unto  me: 
Make  friends  with  thyself, 
Be  true  to  thyself, 

And  thyself  thy  good  angel  shall  be.** 

Hardness  of  heart  is  a  dreadful  quality,  but  it  is  doubt- 
ful whether  in  the  long  run  it  works  more  damage  than  soft- 
ness of  head.                                         —Theodore  Roosevelt. 

' 

d 

□ 

,  , 1 

n 

D 

tffrjst  TSlut  pLtmbay  in  fatibtmbtt 

m 

Said  the  little  brown  leaf  as  it  hung  in  the  air, 
To  the  little  brown  leaf  below, 

"What  a  summer  we've  had 

To  rejoice  and  be  glad, 

But  to-day  there's  a  feeling  of  snow." 

^___^    —  Margaret  E.  Sangster, 

"Commend  me  to  that  generous  heart 

Which,  like  the  pine  on  high, 
Uplifts  the  same  unvarying  brow 

To  every  change  of  sky; 
Whose  friendship  does  not  fade  away 

When  wintry  tempests  blow, 
But,  like  the  winter's  icy  crown, 

Looks  greener  through  the  snow." 

I  find  sweet  peace  in  depth  of  autumn  woods, 

Where  grow  the  ragged  ferns  and  roughened  moss; 

The  naked,  silent  trees  have  taught  me  this, — 
The  loss  of  beauty  is  not  always  loss. 

—Elizabeth  Stoddard. 

d 

h 

I-H4-I 

□ 


m 

Have  we  not  all,  amid  life's  petty  strife, 
Some  pure  ideal  of  a  nobler  life, 
That  once  seemed  possible? 

We  have,  and  yet 
We  lost  it  in  the  daily  jar  and  fret, 
And  now  live  idle  in  a  vain  regret. 
But  still  our  place  is  kept,  and  it  will  wait, 
Ready  for  us  to  fill  it,  soon  or  late. 
No  star  is  ever  lost  we  once  have  seen, 
We  always  may  be  what  we  might  have  been. 
— Adelaide  A.  Procter. 

Sink  not  in  spirit:  who  aimeth  at  the  sky 
Shoots  higher  much  than  he  that  means  a  tree. 

^___  — George  Herbert 

"Grief  sharper  sting  doth  borrow 

From  regret; 
But  yesterday  is  gone,  and  shall  its  sorrow 
Unfit  us  for  the  present  and  the  morrow? 

Nay;  bide  a  wee,  and  dinna  fret" 


d 


M= 


CfcftD  'Blue  jttonfcai?  in  &cfotmbtv 

m 


When  shall  we  learn  that  he  who  multiplieth  possessions 
multiplieth  troubles,  and  that  the  single  use  of  things  which  we 

call  our  own  is  that  they  may  be  his  who  hath  need  of  them? 

— Tom  Hughes. 

Man  has  little  right  to  complain  who  possesses  so  much 
as  one  corner  in  the  world  where  he  may  be  happy  or  miser- 
able as  best  suits  him.  —Nathaniel  Hawthorne. 

"There  are  two  classes  of  miserable  people  in  the 
world — those  who  worry  because  they  have  no  money  and 
those  who  worry  because  they  have  to  worry  over  the  money 
they  have." 

"When  wealth  is  lost,  nothing  is  lost; 
When  health  is  lost,  something  is  lost ; 
When  character  is  lost,  all  is  lost." 

—  Motto  over  the  walls  of  a  school  in  Germany. 


P 


IMJ 


□ 


fourth  TBiue  jftonDa?  in  BoUxabtv 
Ml 

Not  a  life  below  the  sun 
But  is  precious  —  unto  one  f 
Not  an  eye,  however  dull, 
But  seems,  somewhere,  beautiful ; 
Not  a  heart,  howe'er  despised, 
But  is  passioned  for  and  prized. 
Fool !  who  laughs  at  lack  of  graces, 
Every  man  hath  many  faces. 

—  Edwin  Arnold. 

Don't  make  too  much  of  the  faults  and  failings  of  those 
around  you  —  even  be  good  to  yourself,  and  don't  harry  your 
soul  over  your  own  blunders  and  mistakes. 

_  — Ada  C.  Sweet. 

Be  courteous,  be  obliging,  but  don't  give  yourself  over 
to  be  melted  down  for  the  benefit  of  the  tallow-trade. 

-  —  — George  Elliot. 

No  one  is  useless  in  this  world  who  lightens  the  burden 
of  it  to  any  one  else.  — Charles  Dickens. 


-47- 


□ 


jfift^  'Blue  jttonDa?  in  faoUuxbtv 

m 

There's  a  little  splash  of  sunshine  and  a  little  spot 

of  shade 
Always  somewhere  near; 
The  wise   bask  in  the  sunshine,  but  the  foolish 

choose  the  shade — 
The   wise   are  gay  and  happy,  on   the  foolish 

sorrow's  laid, 
And  the  fault's  their  own,  I  fear. 
For  the  little  splash  of  sunshine  and  the  little  spot 

of  shade 
Are  here  for  joint  consumption,  for  comparison  are 

made. 
We're  all  meant  to  be  happy — not  too  foolish  or 

too  staid; 
And  the  right  dose  to  be  taken  is  some  sunshine 

mixed  with  shade.  —Stanley  Dark. 

Always  there  is  a  black  spot  in  our  sunshine;  it  is  the 
shadow  of  ourselves.  — Carlyle. 


q 

D 

tfftgt  "Blue  ittonfiat  in  December 

m 

Now  is  winter  and  now  is  sorrow, 
No  roses,  but  only  thorns  to-day; 

Thorns  will  put  on  roses  to-morrow, 

Winter  and  sorrow  scudding  away,— 

No  more  winter  and  no  more  sorrow, 

To-morrow.     _ Christina  G.  Rosscnl 

If  the  world  seems  cool  to  you, 

Kindle  fires  to  warm  it; 
Let  their  comfort  hide  from  you 

Winters  that  deform  it. 
Hearts  as  frozen  as  your  own 

To  that  radiance  gather; 
You  will  soon  forget  to  moan, 

"Ah!  the  cheerless  weather!** 

■                — Lucy  Larcom. 

Why,  O  man !  do  you  vituperate  the  world  ?   The  world 
is  most  beautiful,  framed  by  the  best  and  most  perfect  reason; 
though  to  you  indeed  it  may  be  unclean  and  evil,  because 
you  are  unclean  and  evil  in  a  good  world. 

—  Marcilius  Ficinus. 

d 

h 

hH 

q 

D 

£>ecottti  OBlue  iEontiat  fa  Member 

Mi 

Good  heaven,  of  what  costly  material  is  our  earthly  hap- 
piness composed — if  we  only  knew  it!     What  incomes  have 
we  not  had  from  a  flower,  and  how  unfailing  are  the  dividends 
of  the  seasons !                       —James  Russell  Lowell. 

Make  the  best  of  everything,  think  the  best  of  every- 
body, hope  the  best  for  yourself.    Reflect  upon  your  present 
blessings  —  of  which  every  man  has  many — not  upon  your 
past  misfortune — of  which  all  men  have  some. 

—  Charles  Dickens. 

Finish  every  day  and  be  done  with  it.   You  have  done 
what  you  could.    Some  blunders  and  absurdities,  no  doubt, 
crept  in ;  forget  them  as  soon  as  you  can. 

— Ralph  Waldo  Emerson. 

One  day  is  never  really  like  another,  though  it  seems  so. 

— Mary  Hartwell  Catherwood. 

h 

I-50-! 

in 

p 

I  ■ 

€#r&  TBlue  jttoitfcn?  in  December 
M 

The  calendar  sparkles 

With  days  that  have  brought 
Some  prize  that  was  longed  for, 

Some  good  that  was  sought: 
High  deeds  happen  daily, 

Wide  truths  grow  more  clear — 
"  Each  day  is  the  best 

Of  somebody's  year!** 

____^           —  Priscilla  Leonard. 

"That  day  is  best  wherein  we  give 
A  thought  to  others'  sorrows; 
Forgetting  self,  we  learn  to  live, 
And  blessings  born  of  kindly  deeds 
Make  golden  our  to-morrows.** 

So  Life's  year  begins  and  closes; 

Days  though  short'ning,  still  can  shine ; 
What  though  youth  gave  love  and  roses, 

Age  still  leaves  us  friends  and  wine. 

—  Moore, 

d 

-5W» 

p 


ifotm^  'Blue  jftonaa?  in  mttvabtv 

m 


The  night  was  darker  than  ever  before 

(So  dark  is  sin), 
When  the  great  Love  came  to  the  stable  door 

And  entered  in, 

And  laid  Himself  in  the  breath  of  kine 

And  the  warmth  of  hay, 
And  whispered  to  the  star  to  shine, 

And  to  break,  the  day.         —Alice  SeweL 


It  is  the  Christmas  time! 

And  up  and  down,  'twixt  heaven  and  earth, 
In  glorious  grief  and  solemn  mirth, 

The  shining  angels  climb; 

And  unto  every  thing 

That  lives  and  moves  for  heaven,  on  earth, 

The  shining  angels  sing.  —Mrs.  Craik. 


IS  " 


q 

D 

fc 

£'Cirt)ot 
w 

"Orphan  Hours,  the  Year  is  dead ! 

Come  and  sigh,  come  and  weep ! " 
"Merry  Hours,  smile  instead, 

For  the  Year  is  but  asleep ; 
See,  it  smiles  as  it  is  sleeping, 
Mocking  your  untimely  weeping." 

—  Percy  Bysshe  Shelley. 

b 

|-5>l 

THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
STAMPED  BELOW 

AN  INITIAL  FINE  OF  25  CENTS 

WILL   BE  ASSESSED   FOR   FAILURE  TO   RETURN 
THIS    BOOK   ON   THE   DATE   DUE.    THE   PENALTY 
WILL  INCREASE  TO  50  CENTS  ON  THE  FOURTH 
DAY    AND    TO     $t.OO     ON     THE    SEVENTH     DAY 
OVERDUE. 

NOV  11 1966  o  ^ 

1 

RECD 

NW1V65-6PM 

LOAN  DEFT. 

30 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


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■ 

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